


The Week After the Morning After

by katmarajade



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bar Room Brawl, Developing Relationship, Fist Fights, M/M, One Night Stands, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 02:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1329163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katmarajade/pseuds/katmarajade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sulu struggles to deal with his feelings for Kirk after a one-night stand. (Complete with pining, bar fights, and a happy ending.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Week After the Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the second annual Sulu-Off for this prompt: the John Cho gif of Ultimate Adorability:  
> [](http://tinypic.com?ref=513p0o)

It's the week after they hooked up for the first and possibly only time. Sulu knew that sleeping with Jim Kirk was probably a bad idea, but it's always hard to think clearly about things like that when there are shining cerulean eyes that glow with fire and laughter and strength … and when the hell did Sulu get so poetic about a fucking pair of eyes anyway? Everyone's got them, after all. Kirk's aren't anything special, except for how they really are.

Sulu knew it then. He knows it now. It was a bad idea, but Kirk was there and wanted him, wanted _him_ , Hikaru Sulu. Just for the night he was the object of that plasma-bright Jim Kirk focus, complete and intoxicating and able to wipe away all objections to unwise dalliances.

He knows that it was just for the night, just because Kirk was Kirk and horny and Sulu happened to be there and was probably an easy target. He knows that. He might not be quite the genius that Kirk or Chekov or Spock is, but he's still light years above average. He's damn smart, even if it sometimes seems like he's slow, because he's on a crew full of top-tier geniuses, who make regular Joe geniuses like Sulu look like idiot school children.

He's all set to forget about the whole thing, pretend it didn't happen, and prepare himself for watching Kirk throw himself at whatever man, woman, or alien happens across his path during their shore leave on Earth. The Enterprise is in for repairs and the crew has an unprecedented two weeks off. The first night was Sulu and Kirk's infamous (if it's not infamous already, Sulu expects that it will be so later on. Even if only in his own mind) one night stand. It's a week later and Sulu has watched Kirk flirt with no less than forty-seven other people. He can only wonder how many of them made it into Kirk's enormous Starfleet-supplied hotel room with the stupid huge bed and gigantic bath tub and plush carpeting. (Lieutenants are not supplied with such luxurious accommodations.)

What he doesn't count on is his irrationally violent response to seeing Kirk getting pummeled in a bar fight. It's irrational because everyone has seen Kirk get bruised and bloodied in fist fights—the man attracts violence like Orion women attract human men.

But it's six against one. And the other guys are fighting dirty. And even though Sulu knows that Kirk has emerged with only a bruised face and a grin from fights much more uneven and far dirtier than this one, he's shocked at just how pissed off the sight makes him.

There are no loud Tarzan-style cries or Braveheart-bellows. Sulu doesn't bother with such macho displays. He's terse. Furious. And utterly focused.

The six assailants have no idea what's coming. Sulu never bothers with showy strikes. Every move he makes is deliberate and hits its mark. Eight punches, seven jabs, six kicks, four elbows, and three minutes later there are six groaning men on the floor. Sulu stands there, his face bruised from a couple of nasty punches that he hadn't bothered to duck from. He looks and Kirk is nowhere to be seen.

Sulu finally spots Kirk lying in the laps of two scantily-clad women, who are cooing over Kirk's fighting prowess, even though Sulu is the one who took them down, not Kirk. Kirk grins at the girls, that cocky, arrogant, shit-faced smile that Sulu knows all too well. And Sulu can't help the glower that crosses over his face like a storm cloud.

A worried crewmember whose name Sulu can barely remember comes up and gingerly touches his face. There's talk of bruises and going home and mending and other probably important things, but Sulu can't really be bothered to care about it. He's had worse. Then he thinks that that's probably what Kirk usually says in this sort of situation too. That makes it somehow worse. With a curt dismissal, he promises the fretting colleague that he'll get it taken care of and walks briskly away. Back to his lieutenant chambers, back to his normal-sized bed, back to his standard-planetside-issue dual capability sonic-water shower, back to industrial gray carpet, back to solitude and a painfully obvious lack of teasing blue eyes, all intense and fiery hot.

He doesn't bother stopping by the Starfleet clinic, where there's always a few medical students and doctors on-call and willing to mend up simple scrapes like this. He doesn't stop by McCoy's place, even though he's pretty sure the doctor's there and would be more than willing to patch him up. He just goes back to his room, slaps a simple bandage on the scrape on his neck, and goes to sleep.

His dreams are disjointed and angry, and it's definitely not the most restful night's sleep he's had, but he's frustrated and angry. Mostly with himself, because he knew better and still let Kirk into his head and body and apparently his heart. And everyone knows that falling for Jim Kirk is a colossally stupid thing to do. Kirk loves everyone and no one. He can't settle down, can't stay in one place, can't hold onto a relationship. He's brilliant and loyal to his crew and his friends. He's fiercely devoted, protective, and astute. He's beautiful and funny and sexy as hell. He's amazing and he's not Sulu's to have. He's not anyone's to have. Kirk is a fantastic, awesome force of nature, affecting everyone but tied to nothing. Sulu knows this and knows that if Kirk weren't that way, he wouldn't be Kirk and Sulu wouldn't be falling for the cocky bastard.

He's awake but still lying in bed, sore from the fight and exhausted from his emotional rationalizations, when he hears a loud crash from the entry way. He glances over, surprised at his lack of concern about the break-in, and decides he should get up and see what the fuss is about.

He hears muffled cursing as he pulls on a less-than-perfectly-clean white t-shirt and wanders into the living area, running a hand through his mussed black hair, feeling a couple blood-sticky sections, and getting a strange hollow sensation in his gut.

He should be more surprised to find Kirk there, glaring at the coffee table and swearing.

"You know, I don't think that your Captainly room-lock-override privileges count when we're not on the ship," Sulu says flatly, not really caring that Kirk broke into his room or why.

"Well, no, but my lock-picking skills are tried and true. Wouldn't want those to go to waste," Kirk responds, flashing a tired, confident grin. "That was pretty amazing last night, wasn't it? I mean, I could have taken that bunch easily, but you were pretty bad-ass. Even without the sword, which was probably a good call. They tend to call the authorities if you drag weapons into the mix."

"You're welcome," Sulu answers, recognizing the roundabout thank you within Kirk's babble. "So, did you manage another threesome last night with those girls?" Sulu can't help but let a little bit of contempt leak into his voice.

"Huh?" Kirk looks momentarily baffled and runs a hand through his blond hair, which is just as messy as Sulu's. "Oh, those girls, yeah, didn't stay too long. Got a little woozy for some reason …" Sulu rolls his eyes at Kirk's explanation, which makes it sound like his dizziness was from dehydration instead of getting hit upside the head thirteen times.

"So I sat down for a minute. They offered a rather cozy spot to rest. Once I got my equilibrium back they became much more annoying, actually. Looked around for you, but didn't see you around."

Kirk says this casually, but Sulu can sense that there's something to this.

"I went home. The night seemed pretty over, if you know what I mean."

"Right, of course. I mean, that place was a little dull to begin with and the patrons were far too easily offended. Good call."

Sulu stares, his face a blank. Kirk fidgets, because the man can never stay still, and looks around the room.

"You've been a hard man to track down this past week, Sulu. Thought maybe you were avoiding me. Then I saw you last night and thought maybe we'd have some fun, but then those guys got all offended—seriously, they need thicker skin in these parts, and I got a little distracted with the punch-throwing and the not-passing-out, and you vanished. Again."

"I've been right here," Sulu says flatly, not really wanting to hear Kirk make excuses or fake apologies, because those things aren't Kirk and they don't fit with the Kirk he knows, the Kirk he's gotten all stupid over.

"Yeah, well, maybe the problem was that I wasn't. So, what do you say we go get some breakfast? My treat." The words are casual, but Sulu knows Kirk and knows what he's saying.

"Well, I'm not going to be happy unless I get the whole package deal—eggs, pancakes, bacon, toast, the works. If you're just going to buy me a waffle and call it good, I'm not interested."

"I don't offer full breakfast deals unless I mean it, Sulu. You know that. Grab some pants. Let's go."  
The smile creeps up on Sulu before he even realizes it, slow and slightly gobsmacked and full of hope and disbelief. Kirk grins back and Sulu still can't wipe the stupid smile off his face. Breakfast, indeed.


End file.
